Chase of a Lifetime

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Chase of a Lifetime Page 5

by Ryan Field


  Len didn’t even turn around. He remained at the bar, listening to every word Janice said. “Which is why all Cain ever thinks about is having fun,” Len said.

  Janice ignored Len and squeezed Jim’s face. “I bet you can’t figure out how to get rid of the girls.”

  “Well, not exactly,” Jim said. “I’m not really much of a ladies man if you want to know the truth.” Whenever conversations swayed in this direction, Jim had learned how to respond without giving himself away. Self-deprecation always seemed to work well for him.

  Len faced the opposite wall. But Jim knew he was listening.

  “I’m shocked,” Janice said. “If I were a young girl I’d be chasing after you. I don’t think you’ve realized the power you have over women yet.” She turned and gestured to Len. “Don’t you think Jim underestimates himself when it comes to his looks?”

  Len said, “Yes, he highly underestimates himself.” He turned around and smiled at Jim. “I think he should date five or six girls if that’s what will make him happy.”

  As they walked down the hall to the front door, Janice said, “Cain is going to be home later this summer, taking some time off before he starts graduate school in California. He’s visiting his new girlfriend’s family in Austin for a short time. But he’ll be around here soon enough. You should give him a call. You boys were such good friends growing up. I’m sure he’d love to hear from you. You can spend time hanging out just like you used to do.”

  Jim heard footsteps coming from behind. He knew Len was following them. He didn’t turn back. He nodded and said, “I’ll give him a call, Janice.” Her first name still didn’t sit right with him. But he didn’t want to be rude. After all, he’d just been seduced by the poor woman’s husband. He’d just seen her husband’s erection, for God’s sake. He owed her this much respect.

  On his way down the front walk, he heard Len’s voice. “Thanks for driving me home, Jim. I really appreciate it. Make sure you have some fun this summer with the girls. You’re a man now.” He emphasized the word girls, as if making a joke about it.

  Jim’s balls jumped up in his scrotum. “No problem, Mr. Mayfield.” He couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He’d never be able to look these people in the eye again. But more than that, he’d never be able to look his old friend, Cain, in the eye again either. With any luck at all, he wouldn’t see them again for months.

  Chapter Five

  * * *

  On the fourth of July, Jim’s mother and father had their annual poolside party. It always began at two in the afternoon and lasted until six in the evening. They never deviated. They always served grilled salmon and free range chicken. The side dishes were organic veggies and fruit salad. The bar was stocked with vodka and mixers for almost every different martini available. They even had cute little stirrers with multicolored cowboy hats to keep the Texas cowboy theme flowing.

  This year the party was extra special because it was Jim’s twenty-first birthday and his mother and father had just put in an outdoor living space next to the pool. The outdoor living space consisted of plush sectional sofas in tasteful shades of beige, state of the art stainless steel appliances that would have made most standard indoor kitchens pale in comparison, and specially sized outdoor carpets in southwestern patterns to cover the expensive pavers.

  It wasn’t as large a party as Jim’s graduation party had been. There were only thirty of his mother and father’s closest friends there that afternoon. The men wore baggy swum trunks and lightweight jackets to hide their middle aged paunches. The women wore one piece swim suits and sheer jackets. They hid under umbrellas, bathed in sunscreen, fearing a hint of sun would drive them to the nearest cancer center. If anyone wanted to smoke, even though they were all outdoors anyway, he or she had to leave the poolside, walk through a gate at the far end of a tall fence, and stand alone, as if being punished, beside an old tool shed Jim ’s father had been meaning to renovate for years. Jim’s mother had set a yellow plastic ashtray on a dead tree stump. If a hint of cigarette smoke made its way back to the pool area, it was amazing to watch them cover their faces and hold their breath. The pot they would smoke later that night didn’t seem to bother them.

  Because this birthday was a milestone for Jim, his father had planned something special that afternoon. While he quieted the guests and explained that Jim was about to come outside and do something interesting, Jim stood in the kitchen holding his palm to his stomach. He wore tight black swim trunks and a jock strap to keep his penis packed down. As he listened to his father ramble on about how he would be attending law school soon, Jim groaned and glanced down at his bare feet. He hadn’t told his father he wasn’t going to law school. But he hadn’t said he was definitely going either. On one hand, he had no great passion to be an attorney. On the other, he wasn’t dead set against law school. Unfortunately, the only passion he had that summer was to find out what it was like to be with a man. And this need…urge…seemed to cloud his judgment in ways that made him feel irresponsible and unreliable.

  His father walked up to the glass doors off the kitchen and said, “Are you ready?”

  Jim adjusted his dick and patted it down. “I’d rather not do this, dad. Can’t I come out like a normal person and enjoy the party.” He didn’t mention the fact that there were no people his age there and it would be impossible to enjoy the party.

  His father laughed. “C’mon, son. Don’t be so uptight. This is going to be a huge hit. We’ve been practicing it over and over all month. Show them what you’ve got.”

  Although Jim had never been much of a swimmer, his father had been on the swim team in high school and in college. He’d been encouraging Jim to swim and learn to dive since he was old enough to walk. “Okay, dad,” Jim said. He spoke with a dejected, downtrodden tone. “I’ll do this once. But only once. And if I screw it up, it’s not my fault.”

  As his father introduced him to the party guests, Jim walked to the door and opened it wide, making his grand entrance, wishing he could disappear. He stepped out in the hot sun to applause from thirty middle aged people had hadn’t seen in years. His stomach jumped; his throat tightened. He walked to the end of the pool, climbed up to the diving board, and walked out to the end. Everyone went silent while he found his stance. He pressed his feet together as his father had taught him. He started rocking up and down to gain momentum, concentrating on what he was about to do.

  Then he made one quick leap into the air, twirled backward twice in such an awkward way he thought he might vomit in mid-air, and landed flat on his back against the warm blue water. The impact stung and he knew he’d screwed up the dive. As he sank to the bottom of the pool, he imagined how his arms and legs must have looked flying around every which way. He closed his eyes and wondered how long he could remain down there without taking a breath so he wouldn’t have to face anyone. A minute later, he had no choice but to swim to the surface. When he did, his father and mother were leaning over, gaping down at him with huge smiles. The rest of the crowd was applauding and cheering him on.

  He climbed out of the pool and reached for a towel his mother was holding. He hugged his father and turned around to face the guests. While his father shouted and praised the awkward dive he’d just made, he forced a smile and nodded a few times. As he glanced around the outdoor area at the guests, he wondered why Len Mayfield wasn’t there. Len always attended all their parties. He saw Mrs. Mayfield at the other end of the pool standing beside a group of women his mother knew. But Len wasn’t anywhere in sight and he didn’t dare ask where Len was.

  *****

  Later that night, his mother and father went out to play bridge with friends who lived a few miles away. He knew they’d return laughing, smelling of pot. It was a Friday night and Jim didn’t feel like sitting home alone again. He was tired of jacking to porn on his computer and bored with riding a dildo. He wanted to find out what it was like to be with a real man, and at twenty-one years old he didn’t think he had a moment to
waste.

  For an instant, he considered going to an adult bookstore he knew about on the edge of town. He’d read enough about gay life online to know that gay men often frequented adult book stores for anonymous sex. Though he’d never seen a glory hole up close, he knew what they were. He also considered driving out to a rest stop along the interstate. He’d read about those places, too. Gay men often cruised rest stops and public parks for anonymous sex. They went to bathhouses, too.

  But he hesitated when he thought about all the things that could happen to him at one of these clandestine places. He could wind up with an STD. He’d read about gay men getting crabs and just the thought of this horror made him scratch his dick and clamp his knees together. He’d also read about something even more disturbing. Evidently, there was this thing called “stealthing.” He’d looked this one up in the online Urban Dictionary just to be certain. It basically meant that a top guy would fuck someone with a condom, and then right before climax he would pull out, remove the condom without letting the other person know, and ram his dick in bareback and come inside the other person. The thought of anyone doing something this awful made him shudder. This wasn’t a chance Jim wanted to take with anyone. If he was going to have sex with a man, it had to be safe sex and he had to know at least a little bit about the person first.

  So he thought for a moment and considered his options. He could either take his chances with a stranger or find out what it was like to have sex with a man he knew. He reached for his phone and dialed Len Mayfield’s private cell phone number. It rang about six times and Jim almost hung up. On the seventh ring, Len answered and said, “Hello?”

  “Ah, hello Mr. Mayfield. This is Jim Darling. How are you, sir?” He punched the pillow. He shouldn’t have called him sir. He sounded as if he were ten years old again.

  Len laughed and said, “I’m just fine, Jim Darling. And how are you on this fine Texas summer night, sir?”

  “Well, Mr. Mayfield, I’m fine I guess. It was a little warm today. But not that bad for this time of year.”

  “Why are you calling me?” He spoke with an eager voice, as if he wanted to get right down to business.

  Jim took a quick breath. His voice cracked when he said, “I was thinking about what you said. You know, about getting together sometime.”

  Len Mayfield cut him off. “Where are you?”

  “In my bedroom.”

  “I’ll meet you downtown at the Pegasus Hotel in an hour. If you get there first, get a room.”

  Jim blinked. He figured they’d talk about this for a minute or two first. “The Pegasus Hotel?”

  “Yes,” Len said. “I’ll call you when I get there.”

  Before Jim had a chance to reply, Len hung up and left Jim sitting on the bed with his mouth half open. Though he was having second thoughts now, he knew it was too late to back out. It would have been rude. He couldn’t deny two things: he was horny as hell and Len Mayfield was drop dead gorgeous. All he had to do was to think about being in Len’s arms and he felt weak in the knees.

  He climbed out of bed and put on jeans, a white shirt, and a black blazer. He didn’t want to show up at an elegant hotel looking like a slob. And yet he didn’t want to look as if he was dressed for a first holy communion either. When he was dressed, he grabbed his keys, phone, and wallet and went down to his car. On the drive over, he listened to Lady Gaga sing about bad romance over and over again until her voice rang in his ears.

  When he reached the hotel and walked up to the main lobby, he stepped aside so a group of people could exit. He smiled and nodded as a train of nuns in full habits crossed through the doorway. He held the door open for them until the last nun was outside. He almost turned around and went back to his car. He wasn’t certain he could go through with this. Maybe the nuns were a bad omen. He never saw nuns anywhere. They were so pure and decent. He felt so dark and seedy. His heart was on the verge of racing, his palms were sweating, and his mouth had gone so dry he couldn’t swallow without discomfort.

  He walked up to the front desk and stood off to the side, not sure if he should get a room before Len arrived. He couldn’t have been standing there more than a minute when a thin young man with a goatee on the other side of the desk walked over and asked, “Can I help you?”

  Jim turned and smiled at him. He couldn’t find his voice.

  “Are you here for the gay men’s special?” He spoke with a heavy lisp.

  Jim’s eyebrows went up; his face grew warm. “The what?”

  The desk clerk made a face and he glanced toward a room to the right of the main desk. He gestured with his head and said, “The Gay Men’s Special Event Weekend. Everyone is gathering in the Wilson room over there.”

  Jim thought it awfully presumptuous of the desk clerk to assume he was a gay man without even knowing him. But this wasn’t the first time it had happened. Even though Jim wasn’t effeminate or outwardly flamboyant, most gay men could spot him right away. Straight people weren’t sure. But he couldn’t hide anything from gay men, and this desk clerk was definitely gay. Jim rubbed his chin and smiled. “Yes, I’m here for the weekend event.” He had trouble saying the word gay aloud.

  As he turned to head into the Wilson room, where he saw men of all ages gathered together through the wide doorway, he thanked the desk clerk one more time and didn’t turn around again. He could feel the clerk’s eyes penetrate his back with each step he took. He knew the clerk was wondering why he was there and what he was up to.

  The last thing Jim wanted to do was walk into a room filled with gay men he didn’t know. He was ready to puke at the thought of getting together with one gay man that night, let alone a roomful. He entered and an older man with salt and pepper hair and a wide waist reached for his arm. “Welcome,” he said. “You must be from the younger chapter in Bakersfield, California.”

  Jim smiled and said, “Ah well, I’m not really from any chapter. I’m just here.”

  The older man started to laugh. He poked another older man standing beside him in the ribs and said, “He’s so adorable. I’m so glad we have younger guys coming to these events. I was worried we would wind up with no one under fifty.”

  Jim smiled and glanced at the room. There were, indeed, more older gay men gathered together than there were straight people in the main lobby. It looked more like and all male AARP convention. “I’m supposed to meet someone,” Jim said. He wasn’t going to go into detail. But he had to say something.

  The man said, “I’m sure we have your name here somewhere. Let me take a look.” He glanced down at a table where there was a box filled with files. Without looking up, he asked, “What was your name again?”

  Jim didn’t want to give his real name. “Albert Rhys-Jones,” he said. It was the second name that popped into his head. The first was Lady Gaga.

  The man smiled and continued poking through the files. “I’m sure it’s in here somewhere. Just be patient, Albert. I’ll find you.”

  This was getting out of hand. He couldn’t stand there while the man looked for a name that didn’t exist. He thought fast and said, “Well, I think I see my friend now.” He turned fast. “I’ll see you later. I’ll definitely be back.” Then he left the Wilson room before the man had a chance to say another word.

  The main lobby was virtually empty that night. It was a holiday weekend and most people were either on vacation or at home waiting to see fireworks. When he walked back toward the front door, he noticed the desk clerk glance at him. The clerk’s expression suggested curiosity, as if he were still wondering what Jim was up to at the hotel. And this only made Jim even more nervous. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, started walking faster, and almost tripped over his own feet as he passed the main desk.

  He wasn’t even sure where he was going. When he noticed a room with tall double doors, he headed in that direction…anything to get away from the curious clerk. It seemed to be a lounge, with a bar and a small crowd listening to a pianist while he played quiet
torch songs. Jim stepped inside without glancing back at the desk clerk and crossed to the bar. He ordered double vodka on the rocks, left a twenty dollar bill for the bartender, and went over to a small table on the other side of the room.

  In less than fifteen minutes, while Jim was staring down into his drink, a deep voice said, “Hello. I hope you weren’t waiting too long. I got stuck behind a slow truck on the way over.”

  Jim glanced up and saw Len standing over him. The alcohol had kicked in and his lips were a little numb. Len wore a tight black polo shirt, beige slacks, and his thick hair was still damp from the shower. “I’m fine,” he said. “I wasn’t waiting long.” He didn’t mention anything about the gay weekend event business or the nosy desk clerk.

  After a moment of hesitation, Len sat down in a chair across from him and said, “I could sure use a drink.” He smiled. “You look nice. But then you always look nice.”

  Jim ignored the compliment. He lifted his arm and made an attempt to catch the waiter’s attention, but the waiter continued walking without noticing him.

  Len lifted his arm and said, “Waiter,” and the waiter walked up to the table immediately. “I’ll have a vodka martini.”

  When the waiter left, Len smiled and said, “You should take a few deep breaths. You look as if you’re ready to pass out.”

  Jim took a gulp of cold vodka and said, “I’m fine, Mr. Mayfield.” His lips were tingling now. He had to be careful. He didn’t want to get drunk.

  “Please call me Len.”

  “All right, Len.”

  Len adjusted his position and leaned forward. “Did you get a room?”

  “Ah well, not yet. I was waiting for you?”

  “I’ll get the room. I’ll take care of everything. Don’t worry.”

  Jim exhaled and released an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, thank you. I’m so glad.” The last thing he wanted to do was deal with the desk clerk again. He would avoid him as much as possible from now on. That guy knew he was up to something and he didn’t feel like explaining himself to anyone.

 

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